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Many people actually don't recognize the difference between a d-type zombie and a d. At the beginning, a d-type zombie broke into the gathering place and caused no change. The armed police used several heavy machine guns and rocket launchers to kill it. Now such a strong zombie appeared on the stage. Facing the zombies was another militiaman who had just put on a military uniform and held a steel knife. How could this not make them terrified.
Then there were cries of crying fathers and mothers, and the crowd began to commotion. The great turmoil just broke out, and the huge gunshots of large-caliber anti-aircraft machine guns burst out, and the sound of 4.mm gunshots was deafening. The muzzle of the rotating dual-mounted anti-aircraft machine gun sprayed out. Tens of thousands of people were frightened by the gunshots. The only ones who were not frightened were the militiamen and d-type zombies on the stage. The zombies had already stood there. Stretching his muscles and bones on the platform, the militiamen clutched their swords and shields and sweated profusely at the zombies in front of him.
The militiaman is just a small person. He has never thought about what great achievements he can make. He is just an ordinary person who likes to take advantage of small things and is not too timid. Standing here is also a misunderstanding. Toilet, when he came back, the recruiter had explained the reasons for the previous recruitment, and was explaining the rewards that the camp would give. When he heard about cigarettes, wine, and canned fresh meat, he thought it was a rare opportunity, and agreed to it first.
As soon as he agreed, he realized that something was wrong. His comrades did not compete with him, but gave him an unbelievable look. Now he felt guilty, and when he knew what he was about to face, he was astonished. Bad news.
Fortunately, the camp wanted him to be a model, not to make him a snack. The temporary assault taught him how to fight d-type zombies for two hours. After two hours passed, he only learned that d-type zombies are very powerful. The speed is not slow, and I don’t remember everything else. Now when he faces it formally, he realizes how correct the instructor said. The zombie in front of him is tall and burly, like a handsome man before the end of the world. Let alone he has become a zombie now. He is still alive, and the militiamen dare not say that they can fight, but the military law of the camp is strict. If he does not want to do it, what awaits him will be dealt with as a deserter. The camp treats deserters cruelly, and even dead bodies will not be collected. .
Facing the d-type zombies, he was sweating profusely and his legs were trembling. The zombies sniffed the air, showed an excited expression, and rushed towards him. Facing the d-type zombies, the only thing he could do was to keep backing away , until there was a clear gunshot behind him, and looking back, his captain pointed at him with a pistol. The captain looked serious and his eyes were indifferent. In the captain's eyes, he saw death.
The militiaman's performance fell into the eyes of the audience below. They knew that the militiaman was also afraid. His expression and psychology when dealing with zombies were no different from theirs. I believe that the militiamen can kill the d-type zombies. What if the d-type zombies kill the militiamen and run down to kill them
Compared with the worries of the onlookers below, the militiamen on the stage felt unprecedented fear. At this moment, he finally knew why the camp chose people among them. The camp told the people below that they were all people. In the face of danger, either resist in a desperate situation, or give up in a desperate situation. If he kills a zombie, it proves that ordinary people also have the ability to kill a zombie. If he gives up resisting, the camp will allow him to be killed by a zombie. Putting his captain on stage to kill the d-type zombies, he can also be used as a negative example, the difference between having courage and not having courage.
Thinking about it, the zombie has already arrived in front of him, waving its big claws to grab him. At this moment, the only thing he remembers is a sentence he heard a lot every day: "Hold up your shields, that's the only thing you can save your life!" thing… "
The big paw hit heavily on the shield of the militiaman. At this moment, he completely forgot about last night's training and the usual training. He only knew that the zombies could not catch him. He didn't tilt the shield. He tried to slide the zombie's claws away, but resisted the shield with all his strength, trying to resist the huge force of the zombie.
"when… "
Fortunately, the militiaman lowered the first claw, and before he could catch his breath, the second claw landed on the shield again. This time, the militiaman couldn't hold on any longer, and took a step back. This time, half of his body was on the ground. Numb, he took a step back and didn't stand still, he slammed into the shield with great force, and the militiaman couldn't even hold the knife this time, and fell out spurting blood.
The militiaman fell heavily on the floor, his heart ached, another spurt of blood spewed out from his mouth, the blood he spewed drove the d-type zombies into a frenzy, the zombie ran over to the militiaman, raised its claws and swung down, looking Seeing the paw waving down, the militiaman shuddered, lying on the ground and rolling to one side, before stopping, the zombie turned back to him.
At this time, the militiaman had sensed that the god of death was smiling at him, and couldn't help but look at his captain for help, but the captain was just receiving the long sword and steel shield of the same style as his, and seemed to be preparing to go on stage.
He only got here, and the zombies were already in front of him, and the militiamen could only roll out again. For five minutes in a row, the militiamen lying on the ground were panting and dizzy, but the zombies followed him closely without letting go. The militiamen knew that they didn't People can help him, everything can only rely on himself.
Once again evading the attack of the zombies, the militiaman took the opportunity to kneel down on one knee, looking around, looking for opportunities, his eyes on the zombies, the ground, and the companions below, looking for a chance to survive.
Rolling sideways several times in a row, the militiamen didn't find any opportunities on others. Only then did he truly understand that everything can only be relied on by himself. On the stage, besides him, there is also a d-shaped zombie that kills him. Leaving one, the militiaman naturally didn't want to die. He fixed his eyes on the long knife behind the zombie, which was his only offensive weapon.
The zombie doesn't think too much, it just wants to eat the blood in front of it, the atmosphere here makes it anxious, the wind brings a lot of human taste, the unprecedented amount of human taste makes the zombie feel happy, it is like falling into a granary The mouse can't wait to have a full meal.
Zombies will never be as ambitious as human beings. They focus on reality. The militiamen scurrying in front of it like mice will be their first dish. The zombies are anxious after several times of slamming. The roar fell to the ears of the onlookers, and it sounded like zombies mocking the militiamen. They saw the militiamen struggling under the claws of the zombies again and again, as if going back to the day when the virus broke out, countless people were on the streets, office buildings, etc. , buses, and shopping malls were torn apart and devoured by zombies.
It is enough to experience this kind of nightmare once. Countless people struggled from this kind of nightmare to the gathering place. In the gathering place, they would rather be starved to death than go out. They were scared to death by the nightmare courage.
Now that the nightmare reappears, they are not the militiamen struggling under the claws of the zombies, but they are the ones who are on the front line of life and death under the claws of the zombies. Therefore, instead of looking at it with the eyes of bystanders, they use the eyes of substitutes to do everything for the militiamen. Worried every time he was in danger, and thankful for every time he escaped.
The game of the eagle catching chickens above is still going on, and the hearts of thousands of people below melt into one. They inhale together because of tension, and exhale for rejoicing at the same time. The windows of the big cars were buzzing.
No one felt bored or bored, and they even hoped that it could continue like this, that the militia would never be eaten, and some people even prayed to God in their hearts to let the d-type zombies exhaust themselves to death.